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<title>you maim when you're on offense (but you kill when you're on defense) by lesbiancordy</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23900857">you maim when you're on offense (but you kill when you're on defense)</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiancordy/pseuds/lesbiancordy'>lesbiancordy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Harassment, Siblings Supporting Each Other, spoilers for season finale</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 17:27:08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,030</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23900857</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesbiancordy/pseuds/lesbiancordy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Put the gun in his hand."<br/>"What?!"<br/>"Malcolm, please." Her voice cracked on the word, and something broke in his expression. The fierce protectiveness of an older brother overrode his panic, overrode his inherent lawfulness that he was so desperate to prove to the world. He didn't need to prove it to her though.<br/>-<br/>Ainsley keeps a cool head, and makes a plan.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Malcolm Bright &amp; Ainsley Whitly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>115</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>you maim when you're on offense (but you kill when you're on defense)</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Put the gun in his hand."</p><p>"What?!"</p><p>"The gun. He was holding it, he was going to shoot you. Put it in his hand."</p><p>The way he was looking at her, equal parts shock and horror, shouldn't have disturbed her more than what she had just done, but it did.</p><p>"Malcolm, <em>please</em>." Her voice cracked on the word, and something broke in his expression. The fierce protectiveness of an older brother overrode his panic, overrode his inherent lawfulness that he was so desperate to prove to the world. He didn't need to prove it to her though; that's why she did this--well, part of it at least. Because he couldn't, and he shouldn't have to. She could. Her hands were steady.</p><p>She could see it in his eyes the moment he realised what she was asking him to do, and his nod sent a wave of relief through her--she couldn't lose her brother's love, not now.</p><p>He crouched over the body, careful not to touch anything more than he had to, as he placed the gun in the dead man's hand, making sure to place his fingers in the appropriate positions, making sure the prints found on the gun would provide sufficient evidence.</p><p>"He found your gun, took it from your bag before you even got here. He was going to kill you. So I--" She took a deep, calming breathe before continuing, though all it served to accomplish was the overwhelming coppery scent of blood flooding her senses. "I grabbed a knife, cut his throat from behind, but that didn't bring him down. He turned, and started to advance on me. I panicked, and I stabbed him until he stopped."</p><p>The shocked and disturbed look was back on her brother's face as she spoke, but she couldn't placate him, not now. If she thought about what she did, truly thought about it, she doesn't know what would happen. Maybe she'd become a traumatised mess like Malcolm. Maybe she'd become a serial killer like her father. Maybe she'd become something else entirely, something unlike any of the men in her life. She preferred that option.</p><p>"Okay. Okay, uh, I'll call--" He broke off, voice wavering with a look of pure misery on his face. That look told her exactly who he was going to call before he realised he couldn't; Gil couldn't help them now. Maybe not ever again, thanks to the man on the ground between them.</p><p>"I'll call Dani. And JT--but they'll, Ains, they'll have to arrest you even if we say--"</p><p>"I know, Mal. But we've got good lawyers, and this--this is a good case of self defense, right? Right?" For the first time since she killed Endicott, her composure began to break, doubt began to creep up on her. But no, this had to be done, even Malcolm must see that, even through his steadfast refusal to kill. His eyes glazed with unshed tears as he watched her, but she knew she was right, <em>he</em> knew she was right.</p><p>"I think so. Let's just--" He paused to run his hands over his face, his hand shaking worse than she'd ever seen it. "Let's go over it again, make sure there are no inconsistencies."</p><p>She watched as her brother compartmentalised his thoughts, for necessity and for his own sanity.</p><p>"Before I got here, what--what happened? And what are you gonna say happened?" He looked pained as he said this, and she knew for a fact that the list of people who he would do this for, who he would disregard his own hard-fought morals for was very short. She was oddly touched, but also relieved, to be on that list.</p><p>"He was...very touchy." Malcolm's eyes widened with concern at that, and she rushed to continue. "He didn't--he didn't, y'know. But I could tell he wanted to, he made some really fucked up comments. And we know he doesn't like being told no. That much is true."</p><p>There was a long pause as her brother was deep in thought.</p><p>"Right. Well, that--that gives you even more reason to be scared for your safety, for your life. It could work in your favor." She nodded at his words, already having thought of that. It wasn't entirely true--she wasn't scared for her life, not as much as she should have been at least. Endicott was clearly attracted to her though, and it <em>had</em> made her incredibly uncomfortable.</p><p>"You should make the call soon. It'll look suspicious if we leave it too long." Ainsley was aware she sounded like a criminal. She supposed she was, now. The reality of the situation, though, was that she didn't regret it. Maybe she regretted the frenzied stabbing, in the sense that it could make her defence that much harder, but she <em>knew</em> how to spin a story. It was her job, after all.</p><p>Malcolm once again stared at her, worried and disturbed and guilty all at once. He was about to say something when she held out a bloody hand to stop him.</p><p>"Mal, I don't...this needed to be done. Maybe not...like this, but--" She sighed in exasperation, about to rub her eyes before she stopped herself; her hands were still coated in wet, cold blood. "Tell me you don't think of me differently. <em>Please</em>."</p><p>He was silent for a moment, and that moment was perhaps the longest of Ainsley's life. Then, with a look of resignation, he looked her in the eyes.</p><p>"I don't think of you differently. You're still...you're still my little sister, and you always will be."</p><p>She wasn't sure if she believed him, but she appreciated the attempt.</p><p>He brought his phone up, their father hung up on and long forgotten at this moment. Before dialing, he once again looked her in the eyes.</p><p>"Are you sure about this Ains? There's no going back after I make this call."</p><p>"There's already no going back." It was either this, or get rid of the body. But while she was a killer now, neither of them were their father. They would face this together.</p><p>He nodded, and made the call. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Damn son, they're really in it now.<br/>Drop a kudos if you like please!<br/>Title from Fiona Apple's Fetch the Bolt Cutters.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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